El Bandito Rojo
by The Orange Jedi
Summary: Axel and Roxas are brothers, bonded by blood. But Roxas wants to move on with his life, leave the gang, and make an honest living. Axel feels the classic betrayal. Will his rash actions lead to his demise? AU, Old West sort of story. AxelXNamine, RoxasX?
1. The Bandits

**Chapter One:**

**The Last of It**

"That's the last of it, Axel."

"That's my girl," Axel pulled Naminé close to him, the money bag between them digging into his gut as he kissed her playfully. She jerked the bandanna off his nose.

"If you're going to kiss me," She started, reproachfully, but Axel had already tossed the sack aside and was diving deep into her mouth, "….at least take the mask off…." She finished, breathlessly, several moments later.

"Anything you say, Miss Pearl," Axel removed his cowboy hat, carefully setting it on the carved mahogany table. "After all, it was you who reminded that conductor how much he'd benefit from opening our safe, eh?"

"It was a fine piece of shootin', wasn't it?" She let her hand pat the butt of her six-shooter delicately. "But he'll need to be replacin' them boots."

"You're an animal," Axel laughed, stepping closer again, pulling off his vest. Naminé wrapped her arm around his waist and tilted her head up, prepared for a kiss. Axel bent down, and just before their lips met, he swiped her pistol, firing it out the front window, which was glass-less and open to allow the faint prairie wind to waft through.

"Easy!" Came a shout from outside, the voice calm despite the fear that doubtless lay beneath the surface. Axel tugged his vest back on, motioning for Naminé to arm herself. She grabbed the shotgun from off the wall, clicking the safety off expertly.

"Who's there?" Axel called, keeping his gun leveled at the front door.

"A friend," The voice hailed again. This time, Axel recognized it. He reacted by whooping and tossing the gun at Naminé, who slid it into its holster before returning the shotgun to it's stand.

"That you, Roxas?" Axel threw the door open and embraced the man who stood there, a young lad whose face was browned by sun, and whose hair was wild from being worn under a hat all day.

"Axel!" Roxas laughed and returned the hug. When he was released, he tipped his hat respectfully at Naminé, "Miss Pearl. Real pleasure to be seein' you again."

"And you, Roxas," Naminé allowed with a warm smile. She did not curtsy, but offered forward a hand to shake, which Roxas took and shook firmly.

"You look tired," Axel observed.

"Been ridin' two days straight," Roxas replied, taking a seat at the table and stretching his legs out with a sigh. His chaps were dusty, and so were his boots. The spurs, Axel noticed, were sharp and shiny; Roxas had just replaced them.

Axel took a seat as well, reaching for the bottle of whiskey that served as the centerpiece. He took a deep belt before offering it to Roxas, who declined with a sad shake of his head.

"I've told you to lay off that stuff," He reproached.

"And I've told you I know my own business," Axel retorted. "Naminé—"

"Get it yourself," She told him. "I'm going out—we never unsaddled the horses, and we got back three hours ago." She closed the door behind her, and they heard her footsteps disappear behind the small cabin, to the make-shift stables and corral at the rear it.

"You should be more careful," Roxas told Axel, as Axel stood, uttering complaints about useless wenches. "Your name's been spreadin' too much around here lately." Axel sat back down, an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Roxas pushed a newspaper across the table. A picture of Axel lit the front cover, his mask down and grinning like a fool as he fired a pistol into the air. "Your face is too familiar. It's time for you to move on, brother."

"Ah. I think I've seen this paper," Axel took another swig of whiskey, then pushed the bottle aside to flip through the pages. About the second front, he stopped, flipping the paper around so Roxas could see it. "Sundance Kid?" He laughed. "You're pretty famous too."

"That's why I'm movin' west." Roxas tapped his fingers on the table, nervously. "I found myself a woman, and I promised her I'd put an end to this life of crime. I've got enough money for us to live comfortably on for some time, and anyway—"

"You serious?" Axel interrupted him, pulling the smoke from his mouth and meeting Roxas in the eye.

"Yes. You think I'd joke? Anyway, I think you should come with us. You and Miss Pearl are gettin' too comfortable here—it can't be too much longer before they discover your hideout, and then where will you be?"

"Movin'." Axel shrugged. "But…this talk about givin' up crime…You wouldn't really consider goin' square, would you?"

"Never been more serious about anything in my life."

"It's the family trade," Axel tipped the bottle again. "Our pa was a train-robber, and his pa before him busted stage-coaches."

"Yes, well, if you recall, little Hanyer married respectably enough—he's a successful rancher down in Texas. He's got as much a' Pa's genes as you or I."

"Every family's allowed one black sheep," Axel bit down hard on his cigarette, obviously deep in thought. "But…Roxas…what makes you think they won't find you out west? Moving further into the boonies isn't gonna make life any easier for your li'l lady. Who is she, anyway? She a looker?"

"I left her with our horses. She's gorgeous."

"Pretty enough to die for?" He swallowed more booze. Roxas stared at him. Axel spread his hands.

"Just askin'. I mean, y'know. It could lead to that. You're as bloody and evil and guilty as sin. So'm I. We have been since we was…what, twelve? Some lawman catch you—and settlin' down means you gonna run into a lawman—and it don't matter how long you been square. They find out you're Sundance, you gonna swing. You think your li'l miss can live with that?"

"I don't plan to get caught, Axel. If I have to, I'll be a lawman."

"You'd dog?"

"For Miss Kitty, I'd even rat." Axel made a face.

"You…ah, hell." Another swig, "I ain't even in that deep with Pearl."

"She's as much your business partner as your lover," Roxas shrugged. "Miss Kitty's gonna be my wife."

"Congrats," Axel said dryly, lighting his smoke at last. There was a long pause when neither of them said anything.

"So…." Roxas stood, breaking the silence. "Are you going to at least consider? Come with us."

"No." Axel looked out the window. "Movin'….I can't do it. I like it here. Look out that window. See the view?"

"Axel, even if you don't come with us, you're going to have to leave here sooner or later. The law'll be on to you."

"They'll never find this place. We hid it too well, we hit places too far away."

"I hope you're right." Roxas didn't sound convinced. "You're sure, then?"

"Yeah." Axel stood as well, collecting his hat. He held out a hand for his brother to shake. "I'm sure. Good luck with the weddin' and stuff. I'd hate to be a bandito in your law country."

"You know I'd never dog you."

"Not even for your Miss Kitty?"

"….No. You're my brother." Roxas shook Axel's hand, biting his lip as if he wanted to say something more. "Miss Kitty and I should be on our way." Axel walked him to the door, and watched as he disappeared to the stables. He didn't go to meet Miss Kitty. He hated the wench already. Roxas…Roxas was the only family he had left. He sucked the last life of the cigarette out of it, then put it out on his boot, flicking it into the grass in front of the cabin.

Axel glanced over his shoulder, back into the small, two-room house. His eyes fell upon the half-empty bottle of booze. Yeah. That sounded real good.


	2. Bar Fight

**Chapter Two:**

**Every Western Has A Bar Fight**

Naminé came in from tending the horses about the same time Roxas and Miss Kitty rode off.

Axel was sitting at the table, already in the bottom of his third bottle. Naminé took one look at him and sighed.

"Axel…he's not dying, or anything."

"Di'n say he was,"

"You're acting like it."

"He's goin' 'way f'rever." Axel slurred.

"I think you've had enough to drink, Axel." Naminé jerked the bottle out of his hand angrily, corking it with a strong motion.

"Awww….c'mon babe…" he stood, stumbling over his own feet. She sneered at him in disgust.

"You couldn't even invite him to stay the night?" She looked out the window—the sun was setting.

"Hessaid 'e wuz in a hurry." Axel reached to take the booze back, but Naminé refused to relinquish it.

"Right." Naminé brushed past him, going into the bedroom and slamming the door, taking the whiskey with her.

"Dem woman…tha's my bes' whiskey…" Whiskey….and then a thought occurred to him, as thoughts often occur to a fermented mind. He grabbed his hat off the table and ducked out the door, weaving slightly.

Naminé heard him go, but gave no reaction, save for sighing deeply in despair. She knew he'd return, sooner or later. Of course, there was no guarantee what condition he'd be in when he finally dragged himself back up the mountain. She pulled the cork out of the bottle, allowing the last few drops to slide down her throat.

……

"'nother," Axel demanded, slamming the shot glass back down on the bar.

"Again?" Vexen asked, dubiously taking the glass. He was the barkeep here at the local saloon. "I hope you've got the cash to pay for all these?"

"Trust me. Iggot plenny." Vexen shrugged and tipped more whiskey into the shot glass.

"So…what's troubling you, friend?" For obviously, something was wrong. Besides the fact that Axel was about to fall off the barstool.

"Who ask'd ya?" Axel snapped, cradling his whisky.

"I understand. It's none of my business." Vexen shrugged, wiping out a glass. Someone hailed him across the bar, and he slid down. On the way, he snagged a young man, whispering something in his ear. Axel paid no mind, nursing his shot glass lovingly.

It wasn't much longer—three or four shot glasses later—when the doors to the saloon swung loudly in, crashing against the walls. Some men looked up, annoyed at the interruption. Once they saw who it was, though, they shrugged and went back to their drink, their hand of poker, their game of pool, whatever.

The newcomer eased his way to the bar, sliding up to it without mounting a barstool. Axel glanced at him, his shot glass halfway to his mouth.

"Local lawman, huh?" He asked, before finishing the drink. His other hand slid inconspicuously off the bar, resting on the butt of his pistol.

"Yeah." Marluxia flashed his badge, the word 'SHERIFF' splayed gaudily across it. "I think you and I should step outside, Rojo."

"….'nother!" Axel pushed his glass back to Vexen. Vexen took it, but didn't refill it, tossing it instead to the soapy bucket where dirty dishes were stacked.

"Hey!" Axel protested, gaping at it.

"I'm sorry," Vexen told him, coldly, "But I'm afraid I've got to refuse service to a man who thinks himself above the law, Mister Rojo."

"Wassa big deal? Ijjus' wan' sum whiskey…" Axel complained, pulling his gun out and leveling it at Vexen's head before the lawman could react. "I was even gonna pay fer it." He fired and Vexen fell over backwards, blood streaming from a wound in his temple, before the smoke had cleared.

Axel leapt to his feet, kicking the barstool he'd been sitting on at Marluxia, who caught the leg of it before it caused unfortunate damage. Men all around had tuned into the fact that there was a fight, and many took the opportunity to fling beer mugs, etc, randomly. Soon the entire saloon was in a state of unutterable chaos.

The sheriff tossed the stool aside, forgetting his piece at his side, turning instead to grab a bottle off the bar. He flung it at Axel's head, and Axel barely managed to duck, the bottle smashing on the wall behind him.

Axel swayed as he regained his footing, spinning the cylinder on his colt and attempting to aim it at Marluxia. He cocked the gun, preparing to fire, resting his arm over the back of a chair to steady it. Marluxia froze, aware that if he moved too suddenly, the drunken man would kill him.

"Go on, Rojo," He prompted. "Shoot me."


	3. Cowgirl Rides Away

**Chapter Three:  
This Is How The Cowgirl Rides Away**

"Axel, you can't just go around shooting sheriffs!" Naminé handed Axel a cool towel to placate his throbbing head.

"Look, Pearl," Axel's voice was barely above a whisper, "I don't remember shooting anybody."

"It's in the paper." She slapped the article in front of him. He winced.

"D'ya have to be so loud?" He hissed, pained. "And when'd you get the paper?"

"I didn't." She threw her hands up, exasperated. "You brought it home with you."

"Oh. Good for me, then. Be a good girl and let me sleep off this hangover, would you?"

"…you are unbelievable!" Naminé was pacing back and forth, agitated and showing it.

"Look, babe, I'm sorry…" Axel began, but Naminé interrupted him.

"What if you'd been followed? You get careless when you're drunk!"

"No one followed me, babe." He assured her, massaging his temples gingerly. "Trust me."

"I wish I could!" Naminé was still scolding, "But you're making it rather difficult!"

"Naminé…" Axel tried to calm his woman, but she had thrown her hands up in the air and spun around, her hair, snaking around in its long blonde braid, slapping him in the face. He sputtered, indignant. She mimicked him, venomously, then continued her tirade.

"Look Axel, I know you're upset about Roxas, but if you would just stop and THINK for a minute you'd realize that getting yourself arrested isn't going to make him come back, except maybe for your funeral. Maybe not even _then_. I know_ I_ won't be there."

"Pearl, I'm not going to get arrested!" Axel raised his voice at last, hating the pain that shot between his temples as he did so.

"How did you manage to get back here without being followed, after shooting a lawman in the middle of the NEAREST saloon? Hmmm?"

"I don't know, but I did, ok? Or else we'd both be dead, don't you think? So leave me alone and quit _badgering_ me, woman! I hate when you're on your moon-time, you get so…" he groped for the word, finishing with the rather weak, "_home-wife-y_." He recovered, continuing, "For God's sake, woman. You're not a townwife, not even a farmwife. You're a gunslinger."

It wasn't until she didn't reply that Axel realized he had said something wrong. He couldn't figure out what it was, though he mused quickly, wanting to make amends before the damage was too extensive. What had he said that had brought tears to her pretty blue eyes? Why was her lip trembling even as her eyebrows slanted in that way that suggested she was trying to be more angry than hurt, as if it would convince him?

"You're right," Naminé replied softly, her voice controlled and dangerous, "I'm not your wife. And…" She took a deep breath, collecting her hat and sliding it over her head to rest between her shoulder blades, supported by a strap around her neck, "…you're right. Obviously you know best how to handle your own affairs, _Rojo_. You don't need me to tell you how to take care of yourself. I certainly don't need you. No," She held up a deceptively delicate hand to stop his protest, "I don't. I only agreed to work with you because my father was going to lose his land. We've long since paid the bankers, and his ranch is growing. I can go home. I don't even need my full share—I'll just take enough so that I can help pay for a dowry. I can afford a good marriage, now. I'll make a fine farmwife, wouldn't you agree?" She pushed open the thick door, propping it open for a second, before shaking her head at him and turning to leave.

"Naminé! Naminé! Wait! I…" She turned, hand on her hip, resting on the pearl-butted-pistol. "I…"

"Goodbye, _Rojo_," Pearl only allowed him a few seconds to stutter, before putting her back to him.

"All the way to Oregon, Naminé?" Axel asked, weakly.

"All the way to Oregon." She confirmed. He had followed her all the way to the corral. She whistled to the roan mare, smiling as it whinnied in response before trotting over to where the saddles rested. Naminé tossed the blanket over its back, following with the saddle, cinching it securely as Axel stood behind and watched, feeling helpless.

"I….I…"

"Stop stuttering. Your head doesn't hurt so badly that you can't string sentences together, does it?"

"No," He admitted, thinking _but my heart might_, "I'll miss you," He finished, hating how distant it sounded.

"Really?" She leaned on the roan, cocking her eyebrows at him, "I'm sure in a few days you won't even remember me. After all, there are plenty of young girls around who find you attractive. I'd heard they were using your wanted posters as pinups in their closets."

"That's not what this is about. There won't be other girls, Pearl! I--"

"My name is_ Naminé._ Goodbye, Rojo." She mounted, checking her saddlebags to be sure they were tightly secured, and rode past him, her knee brushing his chest and knocking him a step back. She didn't turn around, just kicked her spurs deep into the roan's flanks as Axel stood, gap-jawed, watching as she picked her way down the mountain.


	4. Gunfight

**Chapter Four:  
Gunfight in the Mountains**

He hadn't meant to follow her. After all, she had said goodbye. Goodbye was goodbye and following her like a whipped puppy wouldn't change that. But the emptiness of the cabin, the quiet of the woods surrounding him, was the source of a pain more violent than any hangover.

It was near sunset when he emerged from the tree-line, following the trail as only Rojo could, for Pearl was skilled at concealing her path. The going was slow because the trail was rocky and neither horse nor rider had any desire to try and survive a landslide.

"She should be stopping in a bit, girl," Axel confided to his pinto, stroking the creature's soft neck. "She likes to watch the stars come up while eating dinner…" The horse whickered softly, shaking its mane and continuing the trek without much prompting. It could smell its corral-mate up ahead. It wasn't long before Axel could smell the fire, though the darkness swallowed any smoke that the flames emitted.

As he allowed himself a moment, pulling back the reins to force the pinto to pause, he mulled over what to say. He couldn't seem to get much further than _I'm sorry_ though he knew that two words would hardly be adequate.

"Look, Pearl," He said to a nearby tree, "I'm sorry. You're beautiful and talented and I was wrong to insult you. I don't want you to go home and marry another man, because I need you in my life. I want you to marry me. Yeah, how's that sound, girl?," Axel questioned the mare below him, stroking the soft forelock, "Would that win you back?" The horse sighed and shook its mane again, leaning forward, wanting to get to the fire.

"Hold on a second," Axel pulled back again, holding it still. "Hear that? Shoes on the rocks…" Lawmen! Creeping in from the east, hidden in the darkness, riding stealthily towards Naminé's fire.

His mind raced, trying to figure how they had been located. These dogs hadn't come from the town he'd visited the night before, so they couldn't have followed him. Unless they had circled around…no, think! He forced himself to stop musing about the how, and focus on the solution. He didn't have time. He had to warn Pearl! These goons had the jump on her, and if they caught her, she'd hang just as if she were a man for the crimes she'd committed.

He spurred the pinto, racing through the bushes, drawing his pistols as he did, steering the mare with his knees. He fired blind, hearing the bullets smack home and hating the screams of the men he injured, and the crash of the bodies who hadn't had a chance to scream.

"Ambush!" One of the men shouted, returning fire. Axel yelled as the bullet smacked wetly, deep in his shoulder. He was unhorsed after another buried itself in his gut, the pinto rearing as a bullet smacked into the saddle beneath him. He groaned as he hit the rocks of the path beneath him, stumbling to his feet. He'd dropped one pistol in the fall, and the empty hand clutched at his stomach, trying to keep his innards all where they belonged. He fired again, hardly able to see the assailants in the gathering night.

"It's just the one, boys!" Someone to his left realized, "He's injured!"

Axel called for his horse, but the creature was gone, fled into the night, whinnying its distress to the stars.

"You're not going to believe this, Xigbar. It's Rojo."

"Has he lost his wits?" Axel had fallen to vomit, and was crouching in the path, biting back more profanity as he tasted bloody bile. "Ambushing a posse all alone…"

So they…weren't after Pearl? Was it possible they hadn't known she was there, less than a quarter mile from this point? Axel felt the world fall out from under him.

"Maybe he's not alone! Spread out, look for an accomplice—Sundance or that pretty girl, Pearl."

"Go to hell," Axel choked on the words, spitting at the lawman who had knelt to examine him, stuffing his pistol back in his holster as though he believed that Axel was no longer a significant threat.

"Be careful, Lexaeus. He's dangerous." Cautioned Xigbar, still mounted behind the large man who was attempting to fasten manacles around Axel's wrists. Axel screamed as the motion wrenched his shoulder. He whipped out with his other, punching the man squarely across the jaw and temporarily stunning him.

While the man was down, he jerked the pistol from Lexaeus' belt and fired again, aiming at Xigbar, who was obviously the leader. He refused to be captured alive. Gunfire filled the night as he emptied the pistol, taking careful aim, knowing that even if he won, the wound in his gut was already festering. He was convinced that he was going to die.


End file.
